...and walk humbly with thy God....
a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W Jensen
at the Second Congregational Meeting House on Nantucket Island
Sunday November 24, 2002
***
A little over a century and a half ago, when things like this were still fairly commonplace, an idealistic young Presbyterian minister, fresh from the Yale Divinity School, wrote to the American Board of Foreign Missions requesting an assignment to a foreign land, and a few months later he left behind forever his comfortable domicile in New Haven and departed for the jungles of Borneo, there to dedicate the rest of his life to the evangelization of the heathen savages.
But as fate would have it, not long after he arrived in that faraway land he was captured by headhunters. The next thing he knew he found himself stripped of his clerical garb and trussed up hand and foot like a Christmas Turkey, while he watched his captors stoke the flames beneath a cauldron full of steaming water and fresh, local vegetables, singing and cavorting wildly in the firelight in anticipation of the big feast later in the evening.
Soon the water was at a rolling boil. The poor, abandoned missionary sat in the shadows, contemplating his eternal destiny; then two burly cannibals approached him, pulled him to his feet, and began to drag him toward the cauldron. Not wishing to appear fearful before his captors, the young minister began singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” at the top of his lungs, and was astonished when suddenly all of the savages grew silent, then fell to their knees and bowed their heads in prayer. The minister dropped to his knees as well, and was just about to praise God for his deliverance when he overheard what his captors were saying: “Dear Lord, we give thanks for this bounty which we are about to receive....”
I repeat this old chestnut because it illustrates two of the major points I'd like to make in my sermon this morning. The first is that knowing what is right, and doing what is right, are often two distinct things, and the presence of one is no assurance of the presence of the other. And the second, of course, is that the decision to live one's life according to one's religious convictions will sometimes get you into more hot water than you anticipated when you started out.
The theological problem of Faith and Works has a long history in Western Civilization. It grows out of a basic dichotomy in the Christian religion: the realization, on one hand, that faith without works is dead, and results in a religion based primarily on lip service; but also the feeling, on the other, that good works alone are not enough, that there must be a corresponding inner wisdom to go along with the way one lives one's life.
This dichotomy manifests itself in all sorts of unlikely places, from ethical discussions of whether "the ends justify the means" to questions of "ignorance of the law;" or even the problem of well-intentioned evil: people who do all the wrong things for all the right reasons. Is it ultimately more important what we believe, or how we behave? To what extent do our beliefs compel us to behave in a certain way? And are liberals at liberty to behave in whatever way we chose, so long as our behaviors are in accordance with our personal beliefs? These are the kinds of issues raised by the problem of faith and works; and they are particularly significant to a denomination such as ours, where the freedom to choose one's own belief is of paramount importance.
In spite of, or perhaps because of, the strong emphasis on pluralism and diversity of belief which exists within our denomination, Unitarian Universalists have historically placed considerable importance in the principle that religion is not what you think, but how you live your life. In the absence of a creed, or a doctrine of "justification by faith," we have opted for a position of "salvation by character" -- that by our fruits shall yea know us. One need only look at Henry David Thoreau's decision to go to jail rather than pay taxes to support the Mexican War, or Theodore Parker's involvement in the Abolitionist movement and the Underground Railroad, or Susan B. Anthony and the campaign for Women's Suffrage, to see this principle in action. But because these are such dramatic examples, we tend to overlook the fact that there were also many within our denomination who were staunchly opposed to what these individuals stood for, who saw them at best as eccentric crackpots, or at their worst (such as in Theodore Parker’s clandestine financial support of John Brown’s raid on Harper’s Ferry) dangerous political agitators.
Nevertheless, I believe it is safe to say that Unitarians and Universalists were to be found in the forefront of every major social reform movement which has taken place in this country since the time of the American Revolution, and often served as the catalyst for these reforms as well. The Unitarian Minister Joseph Tuckermann is known to social workers as the founder of that discipline: as minister-at-large to the poor of Boston, he worked not only to provide charitable relief, but to strike back at the root causes of poverty as well. Bronson Alcott and Horace Mann are best known for their role in the development of public education in this country, in an age where learning was the privilege of the well-to-do. Dorthea Dix and Clara Barton are famous for their work in the field of health care, and there are many other examples as well. Among organizations founded principally or in part by Unitarians and Universalists are the American Civil Liberties Union, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the American Red Cross, and the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
We have, in short, deeply rooted within our religious heritage what Amnesty International director and former UUA President Bill Schulz has called “a theology of dirty hands.” And yet it is important to note that it is not activism and reform per se which comprise the core of our religious practice. Rather, our sometimes outspoken social activism has developed out of a more fundamental reverence for justice and human dignity, and a deeply spiritual sense of our mission as God's hands here on earth.
The practice of contemporary Judaism is based on the principle halakah, a Hebrew word which means "to walk." As a metaphor for the religious life, halakah is extremely useful for understanding the proper relationship between faith and works: one's beliefs and one's behaviors are like two legs, each of which supports the other as one walks humbly with one's God. The insight is a simple one, yet profound within its simplicity; still, it doesn't tell us much about how to discern which way God is walking. How does one differentiate between walking the straight and narrow road and being led astray down the primrose path?
Judaism, of course, draws upon the authority of the Law and the Prophets, and the rabbinic commentaries on the meaning of these scriptures contained in the Talmud. Christianity has historically taken a slightly different approach, one which is mindful of the ethical mandates of scripture, but is frequently inspired by the ideal of the Imitation of Christ as well. [“What would Jesus Drive?”] We Unitarian Universalists are free, of course, to draw on both traditions, and others as well, not to mention the rich heritage of social concern and social responsibility contained within our own denominational history. Yet ultimately each of us must walk our own walk, chose our own path; and this can sometimes lead to difficulties when several of us desire to walk together. It is well and good for Thoreau to spend the night alone in jail. But together we are capable of accomplishing so much more, provided that we do so in a way that is respectful of the diversity that exists among us.
I would like to suggest that any journey a Unitarian Universalist congregation takes in the direction of social responsibility must begin with four steps, and that unless these steps are taken in their proper order, we are doomed to fall flat on our faces. And the first step is that of Education. We are all aware to some degree of the numerous problems and injustices which confront humankind in the 21st century. And I’m not just talking about issues of war and peace, or the attacks on our Constitutional Civil Liberties which misguided patriotism invariably engenders. But widespread poverty, hunger, and disease, and their relationship to economic injustice in the world; the on-going threat of nuclear proliferation; lingering difficulties with race relations; the rapid destruction of our natural environment... yet how many of us really know as much about these problems, and many others like them, as we probably should? Many of us, myself included I'm ashamed to say, would rather hide from these problems, deny they exist, than confront and wrestle with the intricate subtleties and complex ethical challenges they present to us. A willingness to learn is the first demand of putting one's faith into action; for as one wise individual once observed, there is enough to disagree about in this world without arguing about the facts.
The second step is Dialogue, both with one another, and with the witness of social responsibility embodied in our religious heritage. The importance of dialogue cannot be overstated; its aim and purpose is to uncover and articulate the implicit religious values which are at stake whenever we confront an issue of social concern. By sharing with one another the things that are most important to us religiously, we grow in our understanding of the responsibilities those beliefs carry with them. The give-and-take of dialogue is the crucible of religious growth; the superfluous melts away, and we are left with what is truly essential. Many of us have come to church like this because we could no longer stand the unquestioning conformity of more "orthodox" religious denominations. Through dialogue, we subject our own beliefs to those same fires of critical thought, and receive in return a stronger and more tempered faith.
The third step in this process is Consensus. Consensus is not necessarily complete unanimity, but neither is it simply "majority rules." Rather, it is the attempt to come to some sort of broad understanding of where we are in agreement and what is at stake, as well as defining where it is we disagree, and why. Having diligently studied the facts, and candidly discussed with one another our deepest religious values and the values expressed by our tradition, we must seek to articulate our "common mind" -- the extent and the limits of our mutual convictions and concerns.
It is only at this point that we can endeavor to put these convictions into practice, that we take that final step of "living" our faith. I have discovered, through long and painful experience, that there are certain criteria for responsible social action projects within church communities which must at least be addressed if the project is to be successful. It goes without saying, of course, that the action should be in harmony with the facts: it does little good to act out of ignorance. While it may not always be possible to avoid the charge of political partisanship, every effort must be made to communicate the religious values which stand at the center of the action, and which are being witnessed by it. The group should be clear about what it hopes to accomplish through its action: whether we seek to alleviate the problem by providing direct service, or to influence public policy in order to remedy an injustice, to educate a wider audience concerning what is at stake, or some combination of the three. And finally, freedom of conscience must be preserved: we must seek to persuade, but never to coerce, those who may disagree with our stand. Yet neither must we allow ourselves to be coerced; having achieved Consensus through the process of Education and Dialogue, we must be willing to stand up for what we know to be right, even if it means appearing a little controversial, even when it means standing in the way of those whose ambitions we recognize are clearly wrong.
As with the young missionary I mentioned earlier this morning, the commitment to live one's life according to the convictions of one's religious faith will often land you in hot water. Yet the alternative, to me at least, seems even more undesirable. Unless our actions are in accordance with our beliefs, our beliefs mean nothing; we sacrifice our faith on the altar of hypocrisy. Let us rather support our faith through our works, that we might walk forward together as faithful witnesses for peace and justice in this world.
at the Second Congregational Meeting House on Nantucket Island
Sunday November 24, 2002
***
A little over a century and a half ago, when things like this were still fairly commonplace, an idealistic young Presbyterian minister, fresh from the Yale Divinity School, wrote to the American Board of Foreign Missions requesting an assignment to a foreign land, and a few months later he left behind forever his comfortable domicile in New Haven and departed for the jungles of Borneo, there to dedicate the rest of his life to the evangelization of the heathen savages.
But as fate would have it, not long after he arrived in that faraway land he was captured by headhunters. The next thing he knew he found himself stripped of his clerical garb and trussed up hand and foot like a Christmas Turkey, while he watched his captors stoke the flames beneath a cauldron full of steaming water and fresh, local vegetables, singing and cavorting wildly in the firelight in anticipation of the big feast later in the evening.
Soon the water was at a rolling boil. The poor, abandoned missionary sat in the shadows, contemplating his eternal destiny; then two burly cannibals approached him, pulled him to his feet, and began to drag him toward the cauldron. Not wishing to appear fearful before his captors, the young minister began singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” at the top of his lungs, and was astonished when suddenly all of the savages grew silent, then fell to their knees and bowed their heads in prayer. The minister dropped to his knees as well, and was just about to praise God for his deliverance when he overheard what his captors were saying: “Dear Lord, we give thanks for this bounty which we are about to receive....”
I repeat this old chestnut because it illustrates two of the major points I'd like to make in my sermon this morning. The first is that knowing what is right, and doing what is right, are often two distinct things, and the presence of one is no assurance of the presence of the other. And the second, of course, is that the decision to live one's life according to one's religious convictions will sometimes get you into more hot water than you anticipated when you started out.
The theological problem of Faith and Works has a long history in Western Civilization. It grows out of a basic dichotomy in the Christian religion: the realization, on one hand, that faith without works is dead, and results in a religion based primarily on lip service; but also the feeling, on the other, that good works alone are not enough, that there must be a corresponding inner wisdom to go along with the way one lives one's life.
This dichotomy manifests itself in all sorts of unlikely places, from ethical discussions of whether "the ends justify the means" to questions of "ignorance of the law;" or even the problem of well-intentioned evil: people who do all the wrong things for all the right reasons. Is it ultimately more important what we believe, or how we behave? To what extent do our beliefs compel us to behave in a certain way? And are liberals at liberty to behave in whatever way we chose, so long as our behaviors are in accordance with our personal beliefs? These are the kinds of issues raised by the problem of faith and works; and they are particularly significant to a denomination such as ours, where the freedom to choose one's own belief is of paramount importance.
In spite of, or perhaps because of, the strong emphasis on pluralism and diversity of belief which exists within our denomination, Unitarian Universalists have historically placed considerable importance in the principle that religion is not what you think, but how you live your life. In the absence of a creed, or a doctrine of "justification by faith," we have opted for a position of "salvation by character" -- that by our fruits shall yea know us. One need only look at Henry David Thoreau's decision to go to jail rather than pay taxes to support the Mexican War, or Theodore Parker's involvement in the Abolitionist movement and the Underground Railroad, or Susan B. Anthony and the campaign for Women's Suffrage, to see this principle in action. But because these are such dramatic examples, we tend to overlook the fact that there were also many within our denomination who were staunchly opposed to what these individuals stood for, who saw them at best as eccentric crackpots, or at their worst (such as in Theodore Parker’s clandestine financial support of John Brown’s raid on Harper’s Ferry) dangerous political agitators.
Nevertheless, I believe it is safe to say that Unitarians and Universalists were to be found in the forefront of every major social reform movement which has taken place in this country since the time of the American Revolution, and often served as the catalyst for these reforms as well. The Unitarian Minister Joseph Tuckermann is known to social workers as the founder of that discipline: as minister-at-large to the poor of Boston, he worked not only to provide charitable relief, but to strike back at the root causes of poverty as well. Bronson Alcott and Horace Mann are best known for their role in the development of public education in this country, in an age where learning was the privilege of the well-to-do. Dorthea Dix and Clara Barton are famous for their work in the field of health care, and there are many other examples as well. Among organizations founded principally or in part by Unitarians and Universalists are the American Civil Liberties Union, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the American Red Cross, and the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
We have, in short, deeply rooted within our religious heritage what Amnesty International director and former UUA President Bill Schulz has called “a theology of dirty hands.” And yet it is important to note that it is not activism and reform per se which comprise the core of our religious practice. Rather, our sometimes outspoken social activism has developed out of a more fundamental reverence for justice and human dignity, and a deeply spiritual sense of our mission as God's hands here on earth.
The practice of contemporary Judaism is based on the principle halakah, a Hebrew word which means "to walk." As a metaphor for the religious life, halakah is extremely useful for understanding the proper relationship between faith and works: one's beliefs and one's behaviors are like two legs, each of which supports the other as one walks humbly with one's God. The insight is a simple one, yet profound within its simplicity; still, it doesn't tell us much about how to discern which way God is walking. How does one differentiate between walking the straight and narrow road and being led astray down the primrose path?
Judaism, of course, draws upon the authority of the Law and the Prophets, and the rabbinic commentaries on the meaning of these scriptures contained in the Talmud. Christianity has historically taken a slightly different approach, one which is mindful of the ethical mandates of scripture, but is frequently inspired by the ideal of the Imitation of Christ as well. [“What would Jesus Drive?”] We Unitarian Universalists are free, of course, to draw on both traditions, and others as well, not to mention the rich heritage of social concern and social responsibility contained within our own denominational history. Yet ultimately each of us must walk our own walk, chose our own path; and this can sometimes lead to difficulties when several of us desire to walk together. It is well and good for Thoreau to spend the night alone in jail. But together we are capable of accomplishing so much more, provided that we do so in a way that is respectful of the diversity that exists among us.
I would like to suggest that any journey a Unitarian Universalist congregation takes in the direction of social responsibility must begin with four steps, and that unless these steps are taken in their proper order, we are doomed to fall flat on our faces. And the first step is that of Education. We are all aware to some degree of the numerous problems and injustices which confront humankind in the 21st century. And I’m not just talking about issues of war and peace, or the attacks on our Constitutional Civil Liberties which misguided patriotism invariably engenders. But widespread poverty, hunger, and disease, and their relationship to economic injustice in the world; the on-going threat of nuclear proliferation; lingering difficulties with race relations; the rapid destruction of our natural environment... yet how many of us really know as much about these problems, and many others like them, as we probably should? Many of us, myself included I'm ashamed to say, would rather hide from these problems, deny they exist, than confront and wrestle with the intricate subtleties and complex ethical challenges they present to us. A willingness to learn is the first demand of putting one's faith into action; for as one wise individual once observed, there is enough to disagree about in this world without arguing about the facts.
The second step is Dialogue, both with one another, and with the witness of social responsibility embodied in our religious heritage. The importance of dialogue cannot be overstated; its aim and purpose is to uncover and articulate the implicit religious values which are at stake whenever we confront an issue of social concern. By sharing with one another the things that are most important to us religiously, we grow in our understanding of the responsibilities those beliefs carry with them. The give-and-take of dialogue is the crucible of religious growth; the superfluous melts away, and we are left with what is truly essential. Many of us have come to church like this because we could no longer stand the unquestioning conformity of more "orthodox" religious denominations. Through dialogue, we subject our own beliefs to those same fires of critical thought, and receive in return a stronger and more tempered faith.
The third step in this process is Consensus. Consensus is not necessarily complete unanimity, but neither is it simply "majority rules." Rather, it is the attempt to come to some sort of broad understanding of where we are in agreement and what is at stake, as well as defining where it is we disagree, and why. Having diligently studied the facts, and candidly discussed with one another our deepest religious values and the values expressed by our tradition, we must seek to articulate our "common mind" -- the extent and the limits of our mutual convictions and concerns.
It is only at this point that we can endeavor to put these convictions into practice, that we take that final step of "living" our faith. I have discovered, through long and painful experience, that there are certain criteria for responsible social action projects within church communities which must at least be addressed if the project is to be successful. It goes without saying, of course, that the action should be in harmony with the facts: it does little good to act out of ignorance. While it may not always be possible to avoid the charge of political partisanship, every effort must be made to communicate the religious values which stand at the center of the action, and which are being witnessed by it. The group should be clear about what it hopes to accomplish through its action: whether we seek to alleviate the problem by providing direct service, or to influence public policy in order to remedy an injustice, to educate a wider audience concerning what is at stake, or some combination of the three. And finally, freedom of conscience must be preserved: we must seek to persuade, but never to coerce, those who may disagree with our stand. Yet neither must we allow ourselves to be coerced; having achieved Consensus through the process of Education and Dialogue, we must be willing to stand up for what we know to be right, even if it means appearing a little controversial, even when it means standing in the way of those whose ambitions we recognize are clearly wrong.
As with the young missionary I mentioned earlier this morning, the commitment to live one's life according to the convictions of one's religious faith will often land you in hot water. Yet the alternative, to me at least, seems even more undesirable. Unless our actions are in accordance with our beliefs, our beliefs mean nothing; we sacrifice our faith on the altar of hypocrisy. Let us rather support our faith through our works, that we might walk forward together as faithful witnesses for peace and justice in this world.
posted by The Eclectic Cleric at 2:51 PM
